The Fifteenth Minute by Sarina Bowen Read Free Book Online Page A

seriousness of the situation. But then my father explained that my Harkness transcript would show that I’d been suspended for disciplinary reasons.
    In other words, if Harkness kicks me out, I’ll be untouchable.
    “Well, Daniel, we’re going to have to leave it here for now, because I have a lunch meeting. It was a pleasure speaking to you. If I have any more questions for you before I press the college for a hearing date, can I reach you at this number?”
    “Sure,” I say. “Anytime.” I’d promise anything right now if it meant getting off this call.
    He tells me he’ll let me know if he gets anywhere, and then I thank him and hang up.
    I spread out on my bed and stare at the ceiling. This lawyer number two—Jack—he sounded more knowledgeable than the family lawyer who’d first tried to help sort me out. But it might not even matter. The last guy explained to me that I was just another customer, and Harkness was free to decide at their whim that they didn’t want me anymore.
    Last summer, even as my parents were freaking out, I kept thinking that it was really just a big misunderstanding. I honestly believed the college would call me back and say, “Never mind. You weren’t the guy we were looking for.”
    But that never happened. Two lawyers later, my panic had shifted into something heavier, like dread.
    It’s lunchtime, but I can’t enter most of the dining halls on campus, because they’re inside the twelve residence houses. And my “agreement” with the college states that I can’t enter the houses until my case is decided. So I eat a lot of sandwiches from the deli.
    I’m not hungry right now anyway.

5
    Aren't You Funny
    Lianne
    T he next two days crawl by.
    There are classes to occupy my time. On Wednesday I pass another ninety painful minutes in the company of the foremost expert on Bertolt Brecht and his legion of ass-kissing minions. I learn that Beret Guy has at least two of those hats because he wears a purple one to our second class.
    Thank God nobody can read minds. Because I use all my extra time re-living DJ’s kiss. Even as I watch the professor’s face move, I’m standing beside Capri’s brick wall again, and DJ’s dark eyes are coming closer. Then his beautiful full mouth teases mine, tickling the oversensitive skin at the corner of my mouth. I hold my breath, and he kisses me for real…
    Gah. It’s all I can think about.
    When I get a text on Wednesday afternoon, I yank my phone off my desk, hoping it’s him. But instead it’s Kevin Mung, by co-star. We’re close in the way people are when they’ve been to the wars together. I know all his tics and he knows all of mine. But if it weren’t for years of filmmaking together, there’s no way we’d ever be friends. We are nothing alike.
    Hey babe , his text reads, because he calls everyone babe. Even his mother. Did you read our scene? Nearly pissed myself laughing .
    Of course he did. Kevin never takes anything seriously. Usually I find it annoying, but in this case I’m glad of it. At least somebody will be relaxed and carefree when the awful scene is finally shot. If it’s shot. There was still a ray of hope that someone would see the light and cut it.
    I told Bob that it has to be fade to black. Can you please say the same? I need a little help here. Kevin and I have the same manager, which makes us sort of like siblings at a moment like this. Sometimes we gang up on Bob if we need something done.
    Except…if Kevin and I are siblings, that means…ew. Okay. We are so not siblings.
    A moment later my phone rings, and it’s him. “Hi,” I answer, realizing that it’s probably the first time I’ve spoken to Kevin in two months. On the set of our films we never went five minutes without talking. But when we’re not shooting, he forgets I exist.
    “Hey,” he says, his voice breathy. “You okay, babe? Is the scene seriously bugging you out?”
    Why yes, it is. I’m bugging out so hard I’m like that deadly